#then again based om what we hear about their father maybe that's a given

[deonideatta]

Pls the withdrawal has come to the point that I even miss han seok's deranged ass

#im a han seo stan this is unacceptable #i blame taecyeon #he has too much charsima even as a villain #especially as a villain actually #im beginning to wish we had gotten more of his backstory (and han seo's) #like their dynamics with their specific mothers #we can infer that han seok was a mama's boy (and most likely so was han seo before he was sent to his father) #then again based om what we hear about their father maybe that's a given #also it would have been cool to get some actual context surrounding the whole han seok x cha young thing #they had a v fun dynamic when he was junwoo and it's sad that the buildup to that and the effects of their eventual fallout was glossed over #bc when he confessed to her in ep 19 i was just like ???? #we knew he liked her bc they told us but they didnt show us the reasons why enough for that confession to be impactful #but yea #i enjoyed both jang brothers' characters from the beginning #still think han seok is a bitchass but i appreciate his character's role in the story #and he's played by taecyeon so there's that definite plus #vincenzo #kdrama #2pm taecyeon

[b1ipblip]

In Too Deep

Chapter 6:

Warning: cursing, gun

Next ->

A knock at your bedroom day wakes you from your slumber. You stumble out of bed and swing open the door. Outside, RM stood there in casual clothes. “Jin wanted me to tell you that breakfast is downstairs if you want any,” You nod and he stalks off. You pause at the door, allowing it to close as you were in thought. Would you go down today? Last night left you drained and with fried nerves. You decide against it, and you go back to sleep.

~~~

“How is she?” Jin asks as RM comes back downstairs. 

“I think she’s just tired. Honestly, I’m surprised Taehyung is down here this early. We were out late last night with all that happened,” he shrugs and slides his hands back in his pocket. He sits down and props his feet up on the breakfast table, allowing his head to flop back.

“Why does it really matter? I don’t even fully understand why she is living here. What’s the point in worrying about some guy’s kid?” Jimin flicked the eggs on his plate with his fork. This was a lot of fuss to create over some girl.

“That guy happened to be the l/n. Not only did I owe him a couple favors, but what happens to her could make or break us. If anyone got their hands on that money given to her in that will, it would be over of us. And I don’t know about you, but I’m not trying to get what I’ve made by hand stolen from me,” Namjoon pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Then why did you even bring her into this? And now you want her to go out on jobs with us? You’re not making sense, Namjoon,” Jimin was visibly irritated as the tension and voices rose at the breakfast table. Jin glares at Jimin, praying he’ll get the message and back off. Of course, he doesn’t.

“She brought herself in when she watched that deal and got herself kidnapped,” Namjoon’s voice came out harsh. “And since she’s gonna be here for a while, at least let’s make her useful.”

“And how does that make any damn sense? Are you even hearing yourself?” Jimin stood up from his seat. Taehyung sits up in his seat, ready for when Jimin inevitably lashes out.

“I don’t even know why I’m explaining myself to you. I don’t need to. What I say goes and you have no right to question your leader’s decisions.” he had a calm sort of anger about him. He didn’t move into any sort of defensive position nor did he raise his voice. Jin doesn’t know how he does it. Guess it comes with the whole leader thing.

“No right?! I have no right!?” Jimin starts getting into Namjoon’s face. Taehyung tugs on his arm before he gets any closer.

Namjoon stands up from his chair and the whole room freezes, preparing for the worst. “You need to calm down. You’re not going to disrespect me because you don’t like the new girl,” he scoots his chair in and looks down at Jimin. “I’m leaving and if anyone needs me, I’ll be in my office,” he whips around before anyone could get another word out.

—————————

You stare up at the ceiling as you lay in bed. Last night wasn’t the first time you have seen someone die, so why are you reacting like this? Events playback in your mind over and over, leaving not terrified, but numb. You roll over on your side and continue to stare into nothing.

It wasn’t until about midday that you even get out of bed. The only reason being the knock at your bedroom door. You hurl yourself out of bed and shuffle to the door. When you open it, Suga stands in the doorway dressed in jeans and t-shirt with an overcoat. “Get dressed, we’re leaving in ten,”

You quirk a brow, “Where?”

He swivels on his heels and begins walking back saying, “Shooting range,” You shrug and shut the door and proceed to get dressed. In your dresser, you find yourself picking out an old shirt and jeans that you have to cuff because they were too long on you.

You didn’t see the point in makeup so you slip on your shoes and throw on a jacket as you walk out the door. As you descend the stairs, Suga and Namjoon stand with their hands in their pockets in the main foyer. The tapping of your sneakers makes them look up at you.

“Good, you’re coming. I’ll drive,” Namjoon says as he and Suga match your speed walking out of the grand entrance. When you slide into the vehicle, the conversation between the two is surprisingly animated. You haven’t seen either of them being anything other than a stern face until now.

It reminds you that even though they seem like untouchable mobsters, they’re people too.

~~~

Upon arrival to the range, all Namjoon needed to do is look at the man behind the counter to get him. Without exchanging a word, he brings us through the locked door where guns of all types line the walls.

It is hard to fathom how people display guns. It almost feels like a shrine to some fucked-up god. As Namjoon and Suga approach the gun racks you stay behind slightly. That is until Namjoon gestures at you with his finger to come closer.

When you reach the man’s side, he is loading a magazine into a handgun. “Yoongi says you know how to shoot. What do you shoot?” It only takes a moment to remember Hoseok telling you about how they often use different names in the field than in personal life. So Suga’s real name is Yoongi.

“Just a revolver and a pistol,” He hands you a pistol as he and Yoongi grab rifles and pistols. Then it clicks, “Is that why you called me out here with you two?”

You follow the two outside to the range. Namjoon smirks and nods, “I wanted to see it for myself,” he replied. Unconsciously, your face falls into a frown. You used to go to the gun range to relieve stress or just for fun. But now, it’s different. There was a weight to the gun that wasn’t there before.

There were several stalls that lined up with the targets at the other end of the field. There were two types of targets: the regular bullseye, and the body-shaped one. Even the thought of using the latter felt disgusting.

“Y/n,” Namjoon’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts. You turn to him as he hands you a pair of noise-canceling headphones. “Can’t have you going deaf,” a small, obligatory smile paints om his face. You nod and put them on. You load the gun just as you remember your father teaching you. You take off the safety as you stand in front of a bullseye a few stalls from Yoongi. You grip the gun with both hands and brings it up. You take a moment to still your breathing before pulling the trigger. And pulling it again, and again, and again. You don’t even notice the two pairs of eyes glued to you until your target moves closer so you could inspect your shot.

You tilt your head to the side as you stare at the paper. The holes in the paper weren’t quite in the center. Letting out a low hum, you calculate how to aim based on your previous shots. You move the paper back out and reload the gun with the bullets set out to the side. You adjust your aim and fire all the rounds again.

This time, the paper had a gaping hole in the center of the paper surrounded by smaller holes. You grin with pride now looking at your bullseye. A little tap on your shoulder calls your attention away from your masterpiece, however.

Namjoon gestures for you to take off the headphones, so you do. “You’re a pretty good shot. Have you ever shot a rifle?” he asks. You shake your head.

“Just handguns,”

“Come over and try it,” he nods you over with a small smile. You leave the pistol on the shelf in the stall and hold out your hands. He dropped the gun in your hand and the weight surprised you. But you put your headphones on anyway. Yoongi turns to you now watching the way you held it in your hands.

You hold the gun up and rest the butt on your armpit. “No no no no, don’t do that!” you hear Namjoon’s muffled pleads. Yoongi quickly readjusts the butt to the space between your collarbone and your shoulder. You furrow your brows at the awkward handling you had but shrug anyway. Namjoon catches your confusion and steps in. He stands behind you and covers your hands with his, guiding you to a more comfortable position. He ducks his head beside yours and lines your scope up with the target. Your cheeks undeniably heat up a little at his close proximity. But he pulls away, allowing you to pull the trigger on your own accord. Namjoon and Yoongi step back and watch you.

You take a deep breath and when you exhale, your finger pulls the trigger. Then suddenly, your balance is gone and you're falling back. A yelp escapes your lips as the kickback sends you into Namjoon’s arms that were there just in time. He holds you up by your arms and the back of your heel are the only thing connected to the ground. You freeze and blink in shock.

“Are you alright?” you hear, dissipating your shock. You still had the gun in shooting position. He brings you back to your feet and you nod, taking off the headphones.

You take a deep breath and nod staring ahead at the target. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just surprised,” Namjoon presses his smile into a thin line at your saucer eyes.

“Maybe rifles aren’t such a good idea if you’re going to go flying every time you shoot one,” Yoongi suggests with an amused smirk, taking the gun from you. You can’t help but feel a little deflated. You wanted to be good at shooting rifles. It looked cool.

Instead of continuing to pouting, you go back to your stall and set up a new bullseye after taking the previous paper off. You keep reload and shoot again. “She certainly better than most,” Yoongi admits, crossing his arms over his chest while watching you shoot.

Namjoon nods, still smiling a little, “She’s different that’s for sure. Nothing like the girls that are usually around us.”

“That’s because most of them are prostitutes,” Yoongi deadpans. He watches as his leader says nothing and just watches you with interest. Namjoon notices that you furrow your brows every time you shoot, and when the gun jams, you purse your lips in a pout before unjamming it. The whole time he watches your behavior; you are completely unaware. You are so wrapped up in your own little world that you forget that they were even there. Yoongi wonders what is going on inside his head. He knows that Namjoon is planning something. “What are you thinking?” he asks.

“Taehyung was the one who gave me the idea of using her somehow. But I’m not sure. I’m supposed to keep her safe, and her father will no doubt haunt me if she dies because of me. But on the other hand, I can tell that she has many skills up her sleeves that she just hasn’t shown yet. And it just...” Namjoon trails off, letting his thoughts roll off his tongue freely. Yoongi and Jin have always helped him sort out his thoughts when there were too many.

“Maybe use her to help gather information with Taehyung. That way she won’t be in combat and we’ll only use her if we need to. As long as people don’t know who her parents are, she should be fine. Neo-Tech seems to be moving anyway. They might be planning something,” he offers.

“Perhaps, but is it-,” Namjoon’s words are cut off when his jacket pocket begins vibrating. He digs the phone out to see that Jungkook was calling. He pulls his noise cancelling ear muffs off and answers. “Yeah?”

“NCT is trying to intercept the new drug shipment. Just got a call from our guys in the shipyard,” Jungkook states plainly. The air felt like it had been sucked out of the room. The lightheartedness in try atmosphere was completely gone.

“Get Hoseok and his group out there to see what we’re dealing with. I’ll be back in 20,” he answers quickly. Jungkook gives a word of confirmation and he hangs up. “Get ___. We have to head back. Neo-Tech stole one of our shipments,” He tells Yoongi. He quickly gets your attention and tells you that you all need to leave.

“Okay?” you place the gun in his outstretched hand. Yoongi quickly calls out for the man in the front to put away their guns for them as the two men stride towards the exit. You jog in order to catch up with them. When you see their faces, they weren’t as nice or carefree as they were minutes prior when they couldn’t contain a smile when you were blown off your feet by the oversized gun.

“Is something wrong?” you ask in a naive curiosity.

“Just a little setback. No big deal,” Namjoon answers back unexpectedly. Though he didn’t say much, you and Yoongi expected him to not answer period. When you jog out to the car, the engine starts before you even shut the door. The shadow of worry lines on Namjoon’s face cast doubt on his prior statement. But you keep your mouth shut because you know the last thing he needs is you asking a bunch of questions.

“How do you think they found out about the shipment?” Yoongi keeps staring at the road Namjoon is driving on.

“The only possibility is a rat or a bug, or a rat with a bug,” his jaw tightens. “God help that rat if I get my hands on him.” The threat sends fear pooling in your stomach because you know it isn’t empty. You rest your hands on your knees and your shoulders bunch up as you sit forward in the seat.

Upon entering the house, people swarm to Namjoon, and the ones who don’t swarm him pace around nervously. “Hoseok said that when he got to the shipyard that they already took the shipment. Luckily it was a small amount of the regular stuff.” Jungkook says with an iPad in his hands. He taps furiously through whatever program he has on there and hold it up to Namjoon. “The big shipment hasn’t come in yet, but that doesn’t mean they won’t take that one too.” 

All this new information flows through your mind rapidly. His speech was clearly coded and the ‘shipment’ is clearly something that doesn’t concern you. You can’t help but to curiously analyze them. It wasn’t until Yoongi spoke to you that you were broken out of your concentration. “If I were you, I’d stay in my room until everything smooths back over. None of us are very nice when we are on edge like this,” He cocks his head to the side with an almost sympathetic smile.

“Wouldn’t doubt it. I’ll take my leave now,” you let out a deep breath before quickly hiding in your room.

~~~

Jungkook pulls the six other members of their crew in his office. “So what happened?” Jimin asks as Jungkook runs back an forth from table to table of different devices.

“I found a bug in Namjoon’s office, right underneath a stack of papers. I was lucky to find it because it’s practically transparent,” he holds up a clear, thin square. The only indication it was even there was the reflection and the tiny dots on it.

“Have you found any others?”Namjoon asks. Jungkook nods grimly. 

“Two, but who knows how many are laying around here,” He throws his head back and sighs at the younger’s words. “But thankfully they had to sacrifice some tech to make it that small. I can easily scramble them if I get within a five-foot radius of them.”

“Have an idea who might have planted them?” Taehyung quirks his brows.

“I have evidence but the person is highly unlikely,” he says hesitantly. “I’m not even sure I should say it because it’s probably not true,” They watch the worry build upon his face.

“It’s no use if you keep it to yourself so spit it out,” Jimin was clearly on edge.

“The two I found other than the one on Namjoon’s office were both in the bedside table in y/n’s room,” at that moment, time felt like it was slowed. Some faces were bitter and others were shocked. Jimin just laughed aloud. The bitter chackle cut through all thoughts.

“I told you we should have never let her stay here! And what happens? She bugs the whole mansion and God knows where else!” he throws his hands up in exasperation. Everything that Jimin has was being at risk because of you. His six brothers are the only things he has left to cherish, and now they are being threatened.

“But I doubt she’d do that. Why would she?” Jungkook questions.

“Does it matter? Who else would have even been in her room? Not to mention she was taken by NCT before and she’s been here maybe a month or two. What if she is working for them?” he combs his hands through his hair furiously as he paces. His lips press into a thin line as he attempts to restrain himself from saying anything rash.

“Jungkook is right, she has no motive. After spending so much time with her in my office while she was recovering, there is no way she’d do it,” Jin contradicts. You couldn’t have done it. Could you? Namjoon paces around Jungkook’s computer cave with a scowl. He knows your father and your father would never have set him up like this. Jimin was at his boiling point now. Not only were you a traitor but now Namjoon and Jungkook are taking your side. Any restraint Jimin had over himself was gone as he marches up to your room. 

You sat in the center of your bed with your laptop in front of you. You had a large pair of glasses on and strands of your hair hanging in your face. The open window let cool evening air drift through your room. You were working on your assignments which are all on the computer. You took Yoongi’s advice and left the seven men to deal with whatever problem with the shipment is. The best place for you right now was out of the way in your opinion.

Your door flies open and slams against the wall. Your head whips and your eyes widen.  His eyes burned in fury as he pulled you from the bed with a fist grabbing your collar. Any attempt to get away was thwarted by him. You hover over the ground and he snarls, “What did you do?”

The glasses only magnified the size of your wide eyes.  “Wha- what do- do you mean?” you stutter out, your trembling hands reaching out to something, anything.

“How did you get those bugs? Speak up!” Your brain starts drawing blanks. Nothing he is saying makes sense. Bugs? 

“Jimin put her down!” Namjoon’s voice booms. But, you don’t even register it nor does Jimin. All you see is the rage in Jimin’s eyes and his fist in your collar. Namjoon stood frozen along with the other six. It was rare that Jimin got like this; he never got this mad before except maybe once. Sure he had a hot temper, but he was easily defused. They all know that trying to get him away from you would only make things worse for them and you. They stand there with tensed muscles and clenched jaws instead. They can only watch the way you shook in fear as Jimin’s hot breath fans your face. His expression only gets darker as you let silence answer his question. Your eyes dart around the room looking for something, anything to aid you in some way you weren’t sure of.

Panic grips your gut as his glare only intensified at your lack of words. There wasn’t a clear escape. You were trapped. Nothing and no one to help you. Memories from high school flood your mind. You remember those times when you were helpless. You can’t let that happen again. You can’t leave your safety in anyone’s hands beside your own. It was you. Only you and Jimin.

Jimin yanks you closer to his face with his fist cocked back. But before he could do anything else, your instincts take hold of your actions. In a desperate attempt, you swing your leg up to his stomach and kick him right below the ribs. “Shit!” He coughs out.

Thankfully, he lets go and you run. Scrambling off the floor you target, the window. It was the only way not blocked by people.

The window you opened to let fresh air in became your escape. Just like high school. You dive out onto the roof of the third story. When you get to your feet, you frantically search for a way down. The Roman columns were just that. Any fear of heights you had was put behind you as you let yourself onto the column by the gutter. Meanwhile, shouts above call out for you. You didn’t notice. You slide down and hop over the second-story railing to do the same thing.

When your toes touch the marble stairs of the ground floor, you sprint. Your heart beats in your throat as your legs burn. Scaling two steps at a time you glide downstairs and onto the concrete drive and then into the dirt of the tree line surrounding the property.

The grove of trees turns into thickened woods the more you run. There was no time to breathe, only running. Instead of freezing up while your brain tries to understand the situation, your body took over and you fled. Your legs burned, and your ankles screamed for you to stop, but you didn’t listen. At least this time you didn’t twist your ankle.

~~~

“God, why don’t you ever think!” Namjoon fumes as he bounds down the stairs. “Someone contain him. I’ll go find her; she shouldn’t have gotten too far,” He stops in the front foyer and looks up at Jin briefly. “If anything happens, call me,” Jin nods.

“I could find her if you want. In case you want to deal with all of this,” Hoseok offers, leaning on the third-floor railing.

“No, I’ll get her. I don’t even want to look at Jimin right now,” Namjoon waves off the offer a little harsher than he would normally. He throws a jacket over him and lets the large gilded doors slam shut behind him. He looks around the yard to see if you left any impressions in the grass since it rained recently. He sees a set of footprints veering off into the left grove of trees. He begins following your notably smaller footprints left in the broken leaves further into the trees.

Never in all his years of life has he seen someone’s instinctual response to be jumping out of the nearest window. Should he be proud, annoyed, scared, or all three? He thought you were surprisingly agile to be able to pull that off. He’d always got the feeling you leaned more towards clumsy. He walks forward while looking up at the sky, a habit he picked up. He lets his anger cool down with the breeze that runs through the trees. The sky is now painted with pinks and oranges as the sun begins to set. He needs to find you soon because who knows what lurks here after dark.

He picks up the pace with this in mind, but the prints seem to go on forever. He should really stop underestimating you because you never fail to prove him wrong. She shouldn’t have gotten too far; he thought previous to the sky turning purple now. He jutted his jaw out and sighs but continued nonetheless.

As more time passes, he has to use his phone flashlight to see. It was getting colder now too. He mindlessly continues along your path until suddenly it just vanishes. “Huh?” he says aloud. “How the hell?” he flashes his flashlight around the area until he catches a glimpse of your barefoot.

There you were, asleep in a tree some fifteen feet off the ground. Your head slung to the side with your arms wrapped around your torso. “Y/n,” he calls your name. You stir a little. He passes the light over your face.

“Hey tree snake, we need to go home. It’s dark,” he says louder now. He hears a low hum and sees your eyes flutter open.

“Huh? What the hell?” you take your back off the trunk and look down. One of the last people you would expect to be here stands at the base of the tree.

“I’m gonna start calling you tree snake. Can you get down?” despite the situation you let out a little smile at your new nickname. Namjoon holds out the flashlight so the light casts over the whole tree so you could see where you were going.

“I think,” you mumble with sleep still clouding your eyes. You slide your butt off the tree limb you were on and onto the one right below. The bark beneath your feet scrapes against you leaving them red on the sole. You almost get all the way down, but Namjoon stops you from going to the next branch. Your toes curl around the branch at the sudden stop.

“That branch is about to snap, don’t use that one,” he points at it. Your body relaxes slightly.

“Well, which one should I use? The rest of them are too weak to hold me,” you sit crouched on the branch with a quirked eyebrow.

“Jump,”

“I’d rather not,” you say simply, drawing your lips into a thin line.

“You jumped out of a third-story window and you’re worried about this?” you know he’s squinting at you; you don’t even have to see his face to know.

“There was a roof beneath me and I was in immediate danger!” you shoot back, adamant about not jumping.

“You slid down columns like some action hero,” he says incredulously.

“Well, I’m not a hero and jumping was no part of that. And the trunk is too wide to slide down,” you mumble the last part as you press your face into your hand holding the trunk. He throws his head back and groans. You bunch your shoulders up as you sit on the branch. “Maybe if I...” you trail off. Namjoon watches you reason through your predicament. You grip the branch and slide your butt off just like before. You hang from the branch, but your feet still dangle off the ground. The gap was about as tall as you were, and it looked much larger from your angle. “I- uh... I don’t think-” your cheeks burn. But a firm grip around your legs cuts you off.

“I got you, you’re good,” Namjoon looks up at you without a trace of annoyance. You slowly loosen your grip until all of your weight was being carried by him. He keeps his hold around your knees as you slowly sit on his shoulder. From there, he takes you by the waist and places you on your feet. The two of you let out a satisfied huff before you begin walking back to the mansion.

Namjoon holds his phone out to light the path for the both of you as you make the trek back home that would otherwise be in complete darkness. The familiar ache in your feet returns as the grass sinks beneath your feet. “How far out are we?” you ask, feeling like this is taking longer than necessary.

“Given that I left before sunset and now it is pitch black I’d say pretty far,” you smile sheepishly in return.

“I uh... I’m sorry that..you.. had to come and find me,” you stumble on your apology. “I wasn’t thinking straight,” There was a pause. You had no idea how he would react. You haven’t exactly been around him that often. The silence filled you with anxiety the more it lingered. But to your surprise, a soft laugh fills the silence and your hair gets ruffled. You look at him with big eyes and he just smiles.

“It’s alright. You saved me from having to deal with Jimin actually,” he offers.

You almost forgot about him. “I guess,” you respond, hoping to not talk about Jimin anymore than you already have.

“By the way, why the hell was your first instinct jumping out of a window?” you could hear the amusement in his voice. You shook your head and laugh.

“Let’s just say this isn’t the first time,” you shrug. You spent quite a few years learning how to run away. “To be honest, that whole part is a blur,” 

The conversation dies off a little after that, and you return to the silence of crunching leaves instead. Namjoon tries to decipher you and your behavior. He hasn’t figured you out yet and that bothered him. Your mind drifts away from your surroundings and soon your head is up in space. He tries to imagine what drives you, what means the most to you, but he doesn’t know. Tiredness tugs at your bone as your muscles pulsed lightly. You walk begin falling behind, and he notices. He tries to match your pace the best he can, but your small and lethargic strides could not match up to his.

“It’d be faster if you just get on my back,” he offers once he sees you visibly struggling to keep up. You nod and he hooks his arms behind your knees and hoists you up. You rest your arms on his shoulders and you let your legs relax. You give into your heavy head and let it flop down on your arm. Namjoon lets out a breathy laugh, “Tired?” he asks.

You let out a low hum in response and he laughs silently. “It has been quite the day.”

#bts #bantang #bangtang #bantang boys #bantansonyeondan #mafia #fic #fanfic #series #rm #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #suga #jhope #jung hobi #hoseok #hobi #park jimin #kim taehyung #v #jeon jungkook #jeongguk #jungkook #hurt #comfort #bts angst #bts mafia #bts gang #fluff

[disbestiles-blog]

Summer

Dylan Obrien x Reader AU

Word Count: 5,420

Warnings: I recommend you take something to wipe away the tears or not, Idk 😅

A/N: It’s part of @dylanobemineforever ‘s Writing Challenge based on the song Summer by OM (thank you sina, btw) It was really challenge be part of this because I don't knew the song so I took a little time to have a good idea. But after a few searchs and some help of my great friends it's here! I was a lot of fun writing this story and I'll hope that you can enjoy and talk to me about okay?! 

Only when the pilot announced the takeoff and Y/N saw the clouds through the airplane window, she could breathe again quietly. For her it was hard to believe how fast she'd put her things together, taken a cab, and gone to the airport, but it was the only way out that she could think of when the confusion in her house had taken on unimaginable proportions.

She could still hear the screams of her mother calling her spoiled and dramatic but drama was always part of Y/N's life. Her parents have always been ambitious and intelligent entrepreneurs. They were the type of couple who struggled to achieve their goals, even if that included offering their daughter's hand in marriage just to consolidate a partnership.

It sounded like Mexican soap opera story, but that was exactly what had happened in Y/N's life. When she met Chuck, the charming son of his father's best friend and partner, she wasn’t carried away by the incredible blue eyes or the gentlemanly manner he treated her. But the boy was persistent and didn’t leave her alone while she didn’t say yes to a date.

She felt alone and he arrived on time, making her feel like a princess. Chuck fulfilled all her desires, took her to places that she had always dreamed of seeing. Her parents, who were always strict and liked to calculate all the footsteps of the daughter, but for the first time let her live a beautiful and overwhelming romance, making Y/N experience what was freedom for the first time in her youth.

It was a wonderful 3 years of dating, but shortly after the engagement that was four months earlier that week, Chuck had become a thick, possessive, and aggressive man. At first she thought it was only a passing stress, but one day, when she tried to give Chuck by surprising him at work, she eventually overheard a conversation he was having with his mother.

From the beginning, Chuck had approached her just so that her parents' business would work out. All those years had been sustained only for transactions to be effected and contracts signed. The marriage of the two was just another farce in which he had agreed to participate so that the good image of the company was sustained.

"Art imitates life," she thought. Never had a dictation made as much sense to Y/N as that. She wanted to believe it was all a lie, that she was in a nightmare, and that when she woke up she would find Chuck and his mother for another wedding meeting. They would choose the party menu, make the guest list, she would continue living their fairy tale.

When confronting her parents she can’t feel more deceived. Besides not denying any details of the story, her mother insisted that she continue with that novel. Either that, or carry the blame for ruining the empire they had been building in England for 8 years.

After many fights, shouts and revelations, Y/N was no longer worried about the consequences of her decisions. For years she let her life be manipulated by other people but now she just wanted to get away from all that farce. In the face of all that confusion she could only think of a refuge: her hometown. Maybe it wasn’t the best of decisions, but at least it was a decision she made.

Y/N was only 12 when her family needed to move from Southport to London because of her father's company. At that time, even though she was so young, she knew it was a mistake. She knew that abandoning her friends, all the memories she had made there, abandoning her roots would not do her or her parents well. Since then she had lived a controlled and manipulated life so that she was the perfect daughter of the "Y/L/N" family.

The flight to Wilmington was quiet and from there Y/N rented a car and decided to drive to Southport. The road was calm and the ride was small, moreover, she needed to get rid of the thoughts that bothered her and driving would help distract her.

Arriving in Southport, Y/N was soon overcome by nostalgia. The sea breeze, the calm that was the charm of small towns, the trees dancing with the wind. The gas station and the grocery store at the beginning of the city continued to look the same as she remembered. She didn’t know if the owners were still her known neighbors, but it was comforting to see that everything still sounded and looked so familiar even after so long.

She decided to stop for something to eat but before she got out of the car she realized that she was still wearing the engagement ring that Chuck had given her. It was a beautiful ruby ​​stone, bathed in silver. There was no sense in using it anymore, it was like a hollow beauty. She removed the ring and put it in a jewelry box, leaving it in the car door. She was determined to leave all those false memories behind and that summer was all she needed to seal her freedom.

Although small, the grocery store had every type of product a person could need. After picking up some snacks and a drink, she went to the cashier, which was empty. Intrigued, she looked around to see if there was anyone but spotted only a few clients also choosing their products. She rang the bell once, twice, until a middle-aged man came from the port in a hurry to realize that there were several people inside the shop.

When he approached her, Y/N recognized him immediately. It was Patrick, an old friend of her family. Him, his wife Lisa and their two children have been her neighbors since she understood each other. Patrick was known in the city for his fun and quiet way of looking at life. Despite being older, he still seemed to keep this habit, as he was amusing some people in the harbor, before coming to meet her.

"It seems like somebody's jokes are still the entertainment of the city." Y/N said taking him by surprise.

Patrick stared at her for a few seconds puzzled until the confused expression was replaced by a cheerful look and an enlightened smile.

"I don’t believe what I see, Y/N? Y/N/N?"

Y/N smiled, approaching for a tight hug. "It’s me uncle Patrick, I miss you!"

"We miss you too, my daughter! What brings you here?"

One of the clients in the shop let out an irritable throat, making Patrick realize that there was already a small queue formed behind Y/N. Probably some travelers wanting to pay for their purchases. He positioned himself behind the cash register and began packing the orders and receiving payments. As he finished serving everyone, Y/N went to the porch that was just outside the store to wait for him. He would not forgive her if she left without a good conversation.

As she enjoyed the view and felt the breeze thumping in her hair, it was as if she could hear her childhood: the sea, the seagulls flying in the harbor, the sound of the conversations and laughter of the people walking along the beach. Everything was good, and nowhere in the world had she experienced the tranquility she felt when she was there. Immersed in her thoughts she barely noticed when a pickup truck parked outside the grocery store door, a lady and a men came down with several packages, probably to replenish the stock.

From outside the grocery store she saw Patrick talking to the woman and pointing out towards her. It was Lisa, Carl's wife and his son Dylan, Y/N's best friend. They both looked at her in surprise, and Lisa quickly came to meet her, taking her into a tight, maternal hug.

"Oh my dear," she said, holding her face affectionately, as if she were meeting a distant daughter, "I can’t believe you're back!"

Lisa had some tears in her eyes and that was totally acceptable, especially coming from her. She had always been like a mother to Y/N. Their families shared holidays and celebrations as if they had only been one for several generations. Even after her maternal grandmother passed away and her mother refused to keep the traditions between them, the O'brien families affection towards Y/N never ceased to exist. After the brief moment of affection between the two, she saw Dylan approaching.

He was standing with his hands in the pocket of his shorts, grinning in surprise to see her there after so long. She remembered perfectly the last time she had seen him, the farewell on the beach, the two promising each other that they would never cease to be friends and would one day still be together forever. They were just kids making that innocent promise. That day struck her deeply and she still felt her heart racing when she saw him, even after 8 years. He was taller, more masculine, his hair messy as he had always been.

"Y/N ... how long! I can’t believe, you're so ... "

"Different?" Y/N asked curiously.

"I was going to say beautiful, but different is also a good option," replied Dylan smiling.

They approached for a half-awkward hug. Dylan tenderly enveloped Y/N and she immediately felt at home. They stood there for a few seconds, just enjoying each other's presence when Lisa interrupted them.

"What do you think about finishing the conversation at our home Y/N/N? I'll make sure you have lunch with us and Julia will love to see you!"

Y/N was not so sure if Julia, Lisa's eldest daughter, would be happy to see her, after all they were never very friendly. Even with trepidation, she could not deny the invitation. Besides being such a lack of education, Lisa would never take no for an answer. Their house was only a block from the gas station, and it was big and cozy just like Y/N remembered, despite some renovations here and there. As she looked at the next lot, she felt a slight sadness. His parents had ruled out any possibility of going back to that place, and where one day had been his home he could see only a vacant lot, the "sell-out" advertisement worn in front of the property that his parents still had difficulty sell.

While Lisa was preparing lunch, Dylan and Y/N were chatting in the living room. Y/N didn’t know how to introduce a subject without seeming inconvenient, but gradually they were losing their fear and the conversation returned to the tone of friendship and play as it was before. Y/N discovered that Dylan moved from Southporth to veterinary school and since then he lived in Wilmington. He was working in a clinic and had used the vacation to visit the family and long for homesickness. Dylan seemed to have become the gentle, honest, and successful man she had always thought he would be. Y/N hadn’t noticed any ring, but she did not dare ask if he was engaged, it was none of her business.

"And you Y/N, have you taken advantage of England?"

Enjoying was not the right way to describe everything she was living. Dylan was a responsible and stable student, and she was only a 20-year-old girl following the commandments of her parents. She didn’t want to sell herself as a spoiled and dramatic daughter to her best friend. While this may not be true, as he recalled his story, sometimes it was just what it seemed. Before she could respond, Julia entered the room clearly surprised to see Y/N.

"Jules, do you remember Y/N?" Dylan said standing up and doing the honors of "restyling" the two.

"But of course, how could I forget our dear neighbor?!" Julia said holding out her hand, with some irony.  "What brings you back here? You tired of England?"

Y/N could think of having a conversation with Dylan and telling the whole truth about her life and the reason she had brought her there, but for Julia, the jealous older sister, that would be impossible. She sighed, smiling.

"You don’t need a fair reason to visit a city that you love so much, doesn’t it ?! And besides, I needed to breathe this tranquility from here."

Julia raised her eyebrows suspiciously.

"Oh of course ... after 8 years living in beautiful London, who would not miss the little Southporth?"

Dylan grinned as he noticed a certain twinge in his sister. He knew Julia had always died of jealousy from his friends, especially Y/N.

"You never leaving here does not mean that everyone also has to stay Jules."

Julia rolled her eyes at his brother's defense.

"Some customs never change, do they?!" She replied poking Dylan, who responded with a grimace.

Y/N didn’t know where to run. She hated being the star of any subject, especially when she had something to hide. Before the situation went out of control, Lisa called everyone to eat.

The lunch was enjoyable and fun and could not be any different with the O'brien family. They were not the perfect family and they did not even tried to be, but the unity and love between them, the support they gave each other and how much they knew each other was clear. Y/N had never experienced that kind of relationship in her family. The meals they made together were summed up to meet labels and hear their parents discuss business. Time and again they asked about what she had done during the day, but soon they gave orders or opinions back to her agenda.

When Y/N was almost celebrating that matters were not involving her, Julia decided to ask where she would be staying in the city. That question immediately discredited her, she had not yet thought of this important detail. Realizing that she had been miserable at the thought of the answer, Lisa intervened.

"Of course Y/N will stay with us, will she not Pat?" Patrick just nodded, confirming as he finished devouring his piece of chicken, leaving Julia's mouth open.

Y/N had thought of staying in some hotel in the city, but Lisa had been so accommodating that she seriously considered accepting it.

"I would be very happy to accept the invitation, if I do not bother ... of course."

"I think that would be a great idea!" Dylan said smiling, winking in her direction.

Y/N's heart melted a little at that moment. She had to confess that she had also accepted the invitation to be closer to her friend. Even though she had not come to Southporth because of him, finding him was a very good surprise, and she could see no way to take advantage of that time better than not with him.

The days at Southporth were being incredible. The options that Y/N had were countless and she can review several old school friends, visit the places she liked to go along with her grandmother when she was little and even help Lisa and Patrick in the grocery store.

Being so busy would not let Y/N worry about her family in England with her engagement and she allowed herself to forget all those lies. Southporth was her safe haven and nothing could take away from her.

Of course, of all things, the best part of the trip was being able to spend those holidays with Dylan. Aside from a great friend, he had become a great companion to any show. Together they visited an animal shelter that was in town, where Y/N could see Dylan apply some things he had learned in college. She had no doubt he was born for it and nothing made her happier than seeing him fulfill his dream as a child. They made picnics, trails through the small forest that was around the city, spent hours on the beach enjoying the sea.

Dylan could not be happier. Every year he came to Southporth but those were by far the best vacation of all. It was as if he and Y/N were inseparable again and it was impossible to account for the good times they had spent together in those days.

The only person who still bothered about Y/N's presence was Julia, and she made a point of making that clear. As one afternoon, Dylan and Y/N had agreed to go to the beach together. He was packing some things in the room while Julia insisted that her brother go with her on a double date.

"Dylan you supposedly came here this summer to have fun, why do you refuse to do that?" Julia was nervous.

"And I'm having fun with Y/N/N. By the way, you and your friends can go to the beach with us, if you want."

"You know it's not going to be a double date if you take your vacation project together."

"I don’t need a double date, when are you going to understand that I'm not your  little brother anymore? And I told you not to talk about Y/N like that."

Julia rolled her eyes. Something about her brother's best friend disturbed her and no one would convince her otherwise.

"And when she goes away again, are you going to spend the rest of the holidays crying like the first time?" "I don’t know, Dyl ... she appears out of nowhere after years and no one knows why. There's something wrong with this girl."

Dylan took a deep breath, trying not to argue with his sister.

"When you want to talk like adults, I'll be here, now I have a beach to enjoy."

Dylan finished stuffing his things into his backpack and went out into the hallway, listening to Julia just saying loudly "Then do not say I did not warn you." He loved his sister and understood that being super protective was part of the older sister package but he was already full of her to follow all his steps.

One night after a baseball game with friends, Dylan came home and didn’t find Y/N. When he questioned his mother about it, he discovered that she had gone to the beach to walk. He picked up his father's pickup truck and drove to the port. When he got there, he found some people making camps. Some were already leaving, but he found Y/N in the distance, sitting around a campfire, lit only by the moonlight.

Watching her from afar he realized that he still liked everything about her: the exaggerated sound of her laughter, her sweet way of treating people, her simplicity that still held even after so much luxury in her life.

When she left, it took years to get accustomed to the lack of best friend and for a long time wondered if it would just be a keepsake or if the innocent love that they had experienced would remain. There, watching her from afar, he realized that nothing had changed except the fact that he was no longer a naive boy of twelve. Dylan wanted her more than as a friend and he believed she was reciprocal. He just needed to have the courage to try. And that's what he did.

Y/N was distracted, humming a song when she saw Dylan walking toward her. She had reviewed several colleagues since arriving in the city but none of them had grown up and looked as handsome as him. Of course she was suspected to speak, she always defended him tooth and nail in any situation, but it was unquestionable how much the girls in town were impressed with him. Earlier, at the grocery store, she might notice some whispering about Dylan, one of them would do anything to make her realize it, asking for help for every item she wanted to buy. She didn’t want to admit it, but even though it was no big deal, it made her a little jealous.

Dylan settled next to her on the fire, with a plate of marshmallows.

"I think a fire does not have the same grace without some candy, does not it?!"

"You had a great idea, Mr. O'brien."

He smiled and handed out some marshmallows so they could bake while they talked.

"So, what are you doing here so early? I thought the evening with your friends would be fun."

"Yes, it was a lot of fun, but you know a full night always ends like this," he said pointing at both of them.

Y/N's face lit up in a smile. When they were teenagers, even if they went out to totally different places, they always found themselves in the backyard of Dylan's house to tell them about the day, late at night. They started the little tradition when they were 7 and didn’t leave it when some of them was sick.

"Some things never change, right?!"

"I think so." Dylan nodded, smiling. Y/N realized he meant something. She knew when he was restless.

"But tell me, what have you been keeping there?" She asked curiously.

Dylan hesitated a little before saying the words that had been stored from the first moment he saw her.

"I missed you Y/N/N."

Y/N felt her face flush at that. She should not feel ashamed of those things, after all, they were close. But the two were now adults and even though she didn’t want to admit it, she always wanted him to be more than just a friend. She moved closer to him, snuggling her head against his shoulder.

"Me too Dyl ... me too."

It was windy enough, and though the sky had hidden all the stars, that night seemed perfect. With Y/N wrapped in his arms, he could only think of how much he wanted her closer. He knew that summer romances were passengers and that he was only there for vacation at his parents' house, but Y/N was not anyone and if they worked as well as friends, why not try to be something else? Dylan was nervous, he did not want to be intrusive or frightened her, but all he wanted to do now was to hug her, kiss her and let their bodies decide to do the rest. He took a deep breath and when he felt the courage to talk to her, he felt a raindrop on his face. Before he could do anything, it began to rain. They looked at each other, the drops that had begun slow were thick and increasing the speed with which they fell, leaving them getting wetter and wetter. Dylan looked around the beach, looking for some place so they could shelter when he had an idea. He took Y/N’s hand and guided her to where his truck was parked. They finally got in the car, soaking wet after being caught by the rain, which was falling harder and harder. Dylan was adjusting the seat of the car as a loud roar roared from the sky, one of several thunders that were probably yet to come. Y/N practically jumped into his lap, startled by the noise, causing laughter between them. Y/N’s heart was racing, her face so close to Dylan that she could feel his breath catching after the laughter. When Dylan realized that the universe had finally made a move so they could be alone, he did not think twice. Gently, he pulled away a few strands of hair that hung from her face. He looked her in the eye, and immediately remembered when she was gone, all the homesickness he'd kept for all these years and finding his way back to his first love, he kissed her. Y/N did not know how to react when she felt Dylan's warm, sweet lips touch hers. Part of her wanted to push him away and say that it was not right, part of her wanted to tell him all the motives that had brought her there. But how could she not give up the strong grip on her waist, the way their kiss seemed so sure not to happen. Dylan could not tell what he was feeling at the moment. Even hesitating a little, Y/N had given in to the kiss. He was excited but at the same time confused. Pulling away their faces, he stopped to face her, his anxious gaze questioning if they should continue. Y/N understood perfectly what he was feeling: the confusion, the pleasure, that animated spark that would come back to light when kissing his best friend. There inside the car, the sound of the rain crashing incessantly at the window work, she could only think of how much they had was unique in how much they were meant to be. Taking possession of all the certainty she had in her heart, she pulled him again for another intense kiss. With Dylan it was different, it was natural. So when he moved the benches so they could lie down, she just nodded, letting her wishes be reciprocated.

As lightning leapt from the sky, Dylan took advantage of the flashes of light that hung from the sky to watchY/N, her naked body slowly taking shape in his arms as he took off each piece of clothing. Each time Dylan kissed her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, Y/N felt as if sparks were leaping from her body. After a few minutes, the thunderbolts became just background music, while Y/N and Dylan let that night of love, their desires be unpacked and their hearts as well.

Some time later, with Y/N settling under his chest and the darkness giving way to some stars in the sky after the rain, Dylan could not feel happier. Of course he had met other women, some interesting and very beautiful, but she was different. When they were together it was as if the rest of the world did not exist, as in a parallel reality.

Y/N realized that Dylan was almost falling asleep, but despite having just lived what she had thought one of the best nights of her life, something bothered her. Even though those days had served as anesthesia for the lies she'd lived through, she was still engaged. It was a fact that no one had ever made her feel as complete as that night and she knew it was not just about sex. But not even worrying about Chuck's feelings, she worried about Dylan and she could not bear to see him think she was using him just to get over something. She pushed those thoughts away, trying to focus only on the sleep that slowly overpowered her.

After that night, Dylan and Y/N got even closer. It was a fact that they were passing when every day together but now always had room for long kisses, escapes to each other's room at night and even miniature romantic dinners made by Dylan. Y/N's voice was the last one Dylan wanted to hear the night and the first morning. He loved to wake up and be enlightened by the sound of her laughter. Their reunion was recent and he knew that what they had was not set, but those days were yielding great points to start thinking about what it could be.

That day, after going out to play bowling with some friends, they came home with laughter. The night had been extremely fun, even though Y/N had ended up with any chance of them winning the game. When Dylan stopped the car at the door of her house, Y/N was still holding back the laughter she was giving of herself after it had been awful at the bowling alley.

"The bowls in England are different from those here," she said trying to defend herself, but Dylan knew it was just a joke.

"So you're just horrible in the bowling alleys here?" He questioned her smiling.

"Yes, in the bowling alleys of England I'm less evil," Y/N replied, the two falling in laughter again.

Dylan took a deep breath and composed himself of the crisis of laughter, he loved the way she could make any situation seem funnier. They got out of the car and on leaving, Dylan noticed that a small box fell from the door. Curious, he bent to pick her up. Opening what appeared to be a jewelry box, he found a beautiful diamond ring, not inconspicuous, by the way.

Realizing what Dylan had found, Y/N's heart almost stopped. Immediately he came to her, intrigued.

"Hmmmm I know we've known each other a long time but do not you think it's a little early to choose the engagement ring Y/N/N?"

When Y/N saw the ring in his hands, his happy, quiet expression of a few minutes disappeared. Carefully she took the jewel from his hands, putting it back in the box. Dylan looked at her in confusion. She smiled uncomfortably at the situation she'd avoided all those days.

"Dyl, I need to tell you something."

Her tone of sad voice and her gaze lost, Dylan realized something was not right.

"That ring ..." she sighed deeply, seeming to choose which words to use, "this is my engagement ring."

Dylan took a step back, perplexed by what he had just heard.

"Engagement? What are you talking about, Y/N?"

Holding her so that tears did not fall from her eyes, Y/N began to count all the things that had happened before she got there. His relationship with Chuck, the fake engagement, all the lies his parents held for all those years. Dylan listened to her in silence, the time her head lowered, as if she was not believing what she was talking about. This could only be a nightmare. When Y/N was done, Dylan was serious, the frustration on his face.

"You lied to me? This whole time, everything we spent together ... you lied?" Dylan questioned her.

"No Dyl, nothing I told you was a lie, I just ..."

He smiled wryly.

"Is the concept of lying different from the other side of the world? I think living with dishonest people has made you a Y/N."

"Dylan I had no choice! I didn’t plan any of this, I didn’t expect to find you here ... I didn’t expect to fall in love with you again."

Y/N could no longer handle the tears that threatened to fall from her face.

"So you know what it is to fall in love with Y/N? Have you ever felt anything that was not dictated by your parents?" Dylan was nervous, blinded by the hurt in his heart. "I should have listened to my sister. You didn’t come here because you missed us, you came here just to soften your ego, to try to prove to yourself that you can do what you want. But you know what you forgot? People's feelings are not like deeds or whatever shit their father owns. You can’t buy or manipulate us. You can’t treat us like pawns of your game."

Those words hit her hard. How could he say that? She knew it was not easy for him to understand a situation like that, but she just wanted him to realize that she had no choice, that the freedom to make her own decisions had been taken from her. How could he hurt her like that?

"I just want you to believe Dylan, what I felt 8 years ago, what I still feel ... it's real."

Dylan snorted, anger taking over his face.

"The world does not work like this Y/N, this can’t be new to you!"

"Dylan, please don’t let this stop us both."

"Your problems prevent good things from happening to you, Y/N." Dylan took a deep breath, "your world is made of dirt and lies and I don’t want to be a part of it."

In tears, Y/N tried to get closer but he got away from her. Nothing hurt Dylan more than to see her like that, but what could he do? He trusted her, why she hid so many lies? He headed toward his house, leaving Y/N and all the things he dreamed had with her behind.

Do you want a part two? Let me know! I MASTERLIST

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[ultranorthsouth-blog]

A dark story

ZAETA

My earliest memory is examining my mother’s body in the bath tub. Even then I knew her vagina looked shredded. I would ask her why it looked that way. She said from giving birth to you! She said it in a joyful way, but I wondered what else I had done to her, or would do... One day, I remember joyfully pouncing on her nipple and sucking. She pushed me off with a snort and a forearm meant for a grown woman in the way at an Elvis concert. I was hurt and shocked. My mother, in an instant showed a version of herself I did not normally see. Where was the sweet kind woman who made me feel special? Don’t Rachel, were her words. I believe I knew from then on this woman lived inside my mother, and I thought she was the true self. I’ve tried to find her many times, bringing my mother to tears, or reducing her to a screaming fool. I guess that is our job as children, but I don’t know why I do it. I just want her to be genuine I guess.

My next memory is telling my dad as he threw me over his shoulder angrily and gave me the I’ll give you something to cry about speech, I like Mom better than you! I know these words hurt him. But I didn’t know they would.

Please, don’t stop reading! Enough of my childhood drama. Oh wait, not yet, there’s more, but maybe these things matter, maybe they don’t, but I remember them, so that’s something. I’m not sure right now what all I am going to tell you about, but I suppose I will just let it flow and see what happens.

I remember my dad selling our old white truck Henry, a Ford, and I remember getting a moment alone with him before he was sold. I was a sentimental thing. I’ve since cauterized that nerve, but as a child, I wept onto his seat covers. I found out later Dad sold him because of me, because he didn’t think I could ride safely in him. I think I sensed Henry’s sadness. He loved me you see, he loved giving rides to this joyful little girl who would squeal and smile her dimpled smile at her Daddy. The two of them were his favorite passengers. But enough about Henry.

8.23.17

Joyfully choose to practice remembering that you are already free by forgetting everything.

I think it’s time I share my experience at Tom Petty. I had been a highly religious child. With my parents I had been an altar server at our Catholic Church for 7 years, but I switched to a non denominational Christian church after a moving experience at a summer camp where God was based on love and not fear of sin. But all that had been cast aside with my parent’s divorce, the youth group leader of the church I’d been attending made it clear I needed to get my parents back together. I remember the room spinning, and all the love and progress I had made being sucked into a little black hole that I put in my pocket and exited the room with. I carried that black hole for a very long time.

Now I had gone with a group of friends I did drugs with to Tom Petty, at the time we were smoking a lot of pot, doing whip its, pain pills, whatever pills, liquid oxycontin, and lots of MDMA, oh and of course drinking. I don’t remember if I was a junior or a senior, but it was a very fun and special experience. My friend and sex buddy and I had walked on chairs to the front of the stage toward the end of the show, and while the nice older folks sitting or standing in that front section were slightly perturbed by us, and security tried to pull us down, Tom Petty himself waved them off and allowed us to stay standing, watching his final song, Freefallin’. I remember crying, and feeling a feeling that told me, this would be the last time I had fun, especially while using drugs, in a very, very long time.

Fast forward to living in San Diego, I had skipped out on my scholarship to the University of Washington, I had lived briefly in Stockton, returned home, then forged my way to San Diego. My mom had paid my way for me to spin out of control on meth while attending the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising, and a whole book could be written on that episode, but I had gotten myself clean, quit school, and started working. I kept drinking and smoking pot, but in my and many peoples eyes, I was reformed. That was when I had met Jimmy. He as well could be his own chapter. Yet the time I seek to tell you about is a time when I had quit a sales job that I loved, for love. And was doing a more maternal job, working at a Pharmacy. Red flag. What a free for all that turned out to be. I made off with an incredible amount of pain pills, ADD medications, Marinol, you name it, without being caught. But I quit when I knew the time was coming that I would. Some things just don’t last forever. It was then that I realized I wasn’t in love with Jimmy. I was in love with a feeling, and that feeling had died. Both in its real form in the youth group, then even in its synthetic form at Tom Petty. I had no dopamine left.

The pain of that time was so great, that just now I had to get up from the keys and go do a couple of things. Eat a string cheese, load some boxes into my car, remember that that is not Rachel any longer. But it is. That pain is always Rachel. That pain is Rachel without God, without medication, without family, and without friends. As I watched Jimmy pack his things and leave our house, I knew the heartbreak was not just for him but for myself as well, for I still had not yet entered hell. This was just the opening of the door. The flames blasted me with the crippling blows of addiction. When pills were not enough, or available, I turned to heroin. I loved it. Finally, I thought, I’ve reached the place I always knew I would be. I started the meth again. Although this time, I didn’t feel like I had before. It was like a part of my brain had been damaged, or maybe it was my heart. At any rate, I’m amazed I kept my job. I would spend my days with anyone who had anything. Pretty soon, I was with the lowest of the the low. A woman named Sunshine had taken to me. She had done 30 years in prison and was dying of blood poisoning, yet she would not stop. I knew the love she had for me was real. I WAS her, and she was me. The fear and paranoia grew and grew, and one awful manifestation after another came for me. It was one monster, with many heads, and I was getting so tired of fighting. Soon one day, I had reached my breaking point. I was convinced the cops were after me, and I swallowed all of the drugs I had just bought. It should've killed me. Sometimes I think it did. I called my mom and told her something was not right, something was just not right and that I needed to go to treatment. I called my bosses so many times, they turned off their phones. I know now I experienced a psychotic break. But I also know, from a Jungian psychologist, that I entered another realm. The realm of the subconscious. And I lived there, in and out of 3 or 4 jails, until my parents could get me into a treatment center. I was terrified, violent, and most of all, I could see, hear, and feel things that others could not. The terror is still so great, I feel that what I am supposed to tell you about is that I saw Jesus while I was in jail. He appeared to me with so much beautiful light radiating around him, wearing soft blood red robes with some other religious finery that I don’t know the names of, with his head turned away from me. I could not look at his face, but I threw myself at his feet. When he spoke, it was my father’s voice. He encouraged me, and warned me. Of what, I do not know. Later, I also saw the OM symbol. But I was afraid it was the devil trying to tease me away from the comfort of my father and Jesus. I saw freeways and cars that were not there, military men with semiautomatic weapons, I was restrained, sedated had bruises, could hardly walk. I was possessed. I knew my mother was afraid. My father took me the last leg of the journey, an airplane ride. The last time, the police had taken me to the hospital instead of jail, and I was given haldol. It had taken a very high dose to finally get through to me, but I remember feeling better, and quipping to Dad, maybe this has been all in my head. I remember the breath he took when I said that. It was like he was breathing in the truth of my statement for me. Although the treatment center was fancy, the doctor did not trust that I was mentally well. I wanted nothing more than to be sober, and I was desperate to get off of all the medications. I was sick with tardive dyskinesia for a time, and once that was relieved with Cogentin, I felt I could fly. I felt amazing. I had not felt that good, in fact, it could have been the best I’ve ever felt. But all things end. I had one more episode where I entered the lower realm. I was terrified I would be diagnosed crazy, and so I told no one.

I can’t tell you exactly how scary it is to write these words. You see, that time everyone easily made the connection to the drugs and the psychosis, but I’ve visited that realm again. And for brief moments, again, and again. When there is love, this becomes a commune with God, a beautiful golden strand, the Tao, a river, a true mystical experience. But sometimes, sometimes, it is doubt, it is the brink of insanity, it is a cliff and the abyss. So, I try my best to stay grounded, to be here, right now. And so, I think that is enough for today. The dust I have stirred is not of the golden sparkling sort, but of the sooty, staining, choking sort. So before I can not breathe, I must shake it off, and go clean.

8.24.17

Later in life… I met someone trapped where I had been. His name was Ryan. It all seems like a dream now, but I had known him in high school, and he had been one of the older boys I always wanted attention from, popular, built, and charming. This time I met him in a computer lab. He teased me, and said that I had “the Knowing” I soon realized he was in a world no one else was in. I think that is the truest sadness of the lower realm or world as Jung calls it, I guess, the furthered disconnection from everyone. You are not just separated, you no longer even share the collective dream that everyone else does. Although, there were times that Ryan was overjoyed by his dream world. He said if he were to take medication, it would take him away from his alien friends. He took me to meet them, high in the mountains, closest to the stars. I realized here that Ryan was in a truly connected state, he was at peace. At that time, I just played along, not wanting to upset him, but I didn’t see anything. He really thought because I had the knowing, that maybe I would see them too. Instead, I slept with him several times, even though I knew his guilt surrounding sex and his Catholic upbringing could send him into a tail spin. I just didn’t think to care about others at that time. I knew he drank to help himself with his affliction, and I pitied him, but another part of me was curious. Curious about the world he was in, for I had been there too. A friend of mine assured me that he had just taken too many hits to the head, as he had been a class A boxer, or something like that. No wonder I had swooned over him. Anyway, he had a very close friend die, and something broke in him. I know the medical world, the western world would call it schizophrenia, but I wish him well frequently when I think of him, for he would rather be in his subconscious, where he can chase clues, and find facts, and see truths that the regular world would never allow. I just pray that he stay safe when his mind gets particularly dark, or when people pick on him, or when he’s afraid he might hurt someone. May he find peace on his journey.

Last night I attended a group, a group of people “seeking enlightenment” . And someone who knows someone that does shamanic journeying. This peaked my interest, maybe we will see where that leads, she wants the blessing of my psychologist, and what an interesting group that would be, Jung and shamanic journeying. This is more of a journal entry, but it is just evidence of how the flower blooms. Scott, you are also reading this, I hope you’re not bored, or fearful for my sanity. All is and always has been well.

I need you to know, that even after my experience in San Diego, and the events surrounding it, I still did not manage to stay clean. Not even my father knows this. I left the heavenly facility feeling invigorated and encouraged by all, but I did not attend meetings. It had been a SMART recovery facility, and I thought AA and all it’s spirituality was for the weak. What a judgement that was. But I just was not yet ready. I returned to heroin. This time my mother and friends and everyone at the massage school I was attending found out. I chose to battle the demon alone. I felt I had been given the opportunity to heal in treatment, and as I had chosen to throw it away, I needed to cleanse myself this time. And I did so. It was not easy, but using a suboxone I had bought on the street, I weaned myself. I still remember the withdrawals. Ugly, ugly times. This time I chose to enter into AA. Or rather NA. AA had decided I was too toxic when I was nodding out at meetings. Hmm. Shocking. But they were a conservative tightknit group of older folks that really wanted recovery. I managed to stay clean for about nine months. But eventually I began to smoke pot again. I just was not a balanced person. I know now, it was probably my Bipolar that could have been medicated in order to help my recovery. I eventually fell back into my alcoholism which lead me all over the country. I still had that black hole, but now, instead of it being in my pocket, it had joined with the void in my chest, and was threatening to consume me entirely. While on my journey, I wound up in Utah. I was working at a remote lodge run by a Mormon family, and this was the first time since youth group that I felt a love I could really understand. God showed himself to me through that family. They were strict in their beliefs, and part of me wanted to label them as crazed, but the love I saw in that family was genuine. They invited me to family meals, with children helping each other make their plates. Those children softened my heart. The mother took me into the desert and told me her story. She also told me I needed to find a family, or more accurately a husband before I lost my looks. I was overcome with a desire to follow in her footsteps. Her connection to source was so powerful. I wished I could believe like she did. In fact, for a few days, I did. The word beautiful and inspiring are so small compared to the vibration that was born that night. I believe it carried me through everything I would later experience.

After Utah, I moved to Colorado, this time with her words ringing in my ears. Maybe it was time to settle down. The alcohol and pot made it tough to do. I bounced from man to man, as I’ve frequently done. Finally, I landed on Derek. He and I were so much alike. Sports nuts that lost our way with drugs and alcohol. Companions in the amount of whisky we liked to put away, equal tempers, and explosive fights. Derek became the father of my son Silas. I knew I could not take care of Derek and a baby, and part of me had known all along that I would not stay with Derek. He brought out the most violent side of me. I took my womb and unborn child and ran home to my mother in Washington. I decided to attend a clinic that did drug testing during pregnancy to insure I did not hurt my baby. Even with the assurance of my family, I doubted I could be all my child would need. I hung a crystal and prayed every day, 50 or so times a day it seemed like, that I would become long term oriented, responsible, and financially stable enough to give my child the life I knew he would deserve. People told me I would meet a man that would want a family, but for the first in my life, I did not want a man. I was sure I could not pick someone that would be healthy for me and my child, and for the first in my life, I put someone else first. Of course, at that moment I met Max. I had decided to work for a branch of the company I had been working for in Denver, in Seattle. I was renting a room, and commuting home to be with Mom in Sequim, where I also saw my doctor. Max was an engineer for my company. Even before I knew Max was from Tupelo, I had thought I might name Silas Memphis, or Jackson. It seems I always knew where we were headed. Max was everything I could not be. Calm, educated, financially sound, and most of all, he wanted a family. On our first date, I remember telling Max that Silas would be a mixed baby. And even though he would never admit it, I saw the flash of color come to Max’s face. Still, he lovingly told me that that would never deter him from loving a son of mine as his own if that was to be our path. I knew I was crazy for dating Max. I wondered if I was money grubbing, I wondered how evil I really was. But something about his self assured quiet dignity told me that things were going to be ok. What a brave man Max is and was, for things were not immediately ok.

While pregnant we visited Tupelo. We decided we would move after I had had Silas. Max picked Alexander as his middle name. Max’s family owned a factory in Tupelo, and we would be bigger fish in a smaller pond he told me. I knew I wanted to raise my family in a country setting, and as Max wanted to take care of us, I wanted to allow him to do it where he thought he wanted to be. By this time, I had learned Max smoked pot. He was not like me however, he was not an addict. He simply enjoyed the then legal and medicinal benefits in the safety of his Washington home. He also drank, but never to excess like I had. Merriment at its best. I thought being in the company of someone like this might make my addictions abate, and I could be a normal mother enjoying wine, and snuggling babies. How wrong was I. As soon as Silas was born, I entered into a state of panic. We were moving, Mom was overbearing in my mind as I was a clueless defenseless new mother, protecting her young like a crazed bear. I was unsure if I had chosen right with Max. He had become worried, preoccupied with the move. Doubting himself for leaving his engineering job in Washington. I found solace, or tried to in substances once more. I hurt so bad. I now know I suffered terrible post partum, combined with the stress of trying to please a man my son’s life depended on. I realize now what a little faith could have done for me at that time. But I had none. Being a mother did not feel how I thought it should feel. I did not like breastfeeding. We decided to bottle feed. Max was kind and helpful. I hated myself for not having read books. It was awful, just awful. I wanted to smoke pot every second of being awake, nothing could help me. Oh God, how did I survive it? But time moved on, and we got to Mississippi. Things didn’t get any better. At one point Max pointed out my substance abuse was a danger to the family. I got clean the same day and admitted I had a severe case of depression I was trying to hide. Let’s fast forward and say, Max and I’s marriage hardly survived my depression, but we wanted another baby. Max and I are only children, so we knew we wanted a friend for Silas, who had quickly become bonded to Max. I was trying out different medications for my depression when I became pregnant. Again, I don’t know how I survived the pregnancy, there were complications. I had contractions for months, I was taking a low dose of prozac that helped me limp along. I had tried to go without, but I could not. The moment Aris was born, something in me changed. His smiling face was made just for me. It was everything a birth was supposed to be. I think maybe it was the prozac. I was in love with the brothers I had created. I loved being a mother, and also the hospital had given me a healthy prescription of percocet to get me started with the transition at home. When it ran out, I turned to marijuana. Again, I could not use like a new mother should, I needed it all the time. I was at home, alone with two little babies, trying to drink only occasionally, for I knew how I could be with alcohol, trying to keep the house perfect, and do it all. My doctor upped my prozac at my request, because I knew had experienced postpartum with Silas, and I knew easing off the percocet would not be easy. What happened next was another dark night of the soul. I knew I was starting to lose my grip on reality again. The fabric surrounding me started to unravel, and I could see through to the very depths of my soul. Doctors say it was the lack of sleep. Maybe the paranoia was exacerbated by the marijuana and the coffee was just too much with the prozac. Was it a mania? It was a psychotic break. Max thought I was on meth, for I had told him that I had a past with it, and we had a neighbor for a  time that was a meth head. The phenomenal part was that I knew the cops were coming, I knew they would try to find our marijuana, and that is exactly what I manifested. I think I knew I was a danger to my children. Alcohol had been abusive to Silas, I had felt, and I was not being the mother I wanted to be. I had not harmed my children, but I was not healthy either. The voices in my head wanted me to try to harm my child, to make the pain stop. I fought it, and begged Max to call 911. I thought he or I had given Silas some of my antipsychotic medication that Max had begged me to take. The doctors were just one step behind my mind at that time, and I was so close to being well, but it took a great heave from my higher self to get me where I needed to be. I saw two angels during my psychotic break. They were just observers. They were there to carry me, either back to my family, or to a permanent place below, where I would remain alone in my madness. I believe I had a choice to make that night. And when I asked Max to call 911, I chose to get myself help, and save my children from any harm that might befall them. The paramedics ushered in the police, who took me to jail. I was in psychosis this entire time, and I remember thinking I really had to play the part of insane, or I might not get the right kind of help. I think that was the only sane thought I had. I heard voices, I saw things, I was intrigued, and at times terrified. I was brave, I gleefully told the police we had the marijuana, a quarter pound shipped down from a friend in Washington. My case escalated to a Federal level. My doctor made a phone call and got me into the behavioral health facility. I remember the driver had the face of friend, and I knew I would be alright. Still, I was terrified that first night, and was later told I stripped down naked and ran through the halls in shear terror. A religious woman said she believed I was possessed. I was put in a containment room, and spent an immeasurable amount of time in there. I remember Max visiting me. He was kind, but I could not trust him. I thought he was there to wish me goodbye. I tried to eat my nicotine patch in order to kill myself. I tried to confess to a number of sins, some real, some imagined. DHS was called in. They decided I was a rambling fool. I slowly came out of it with the help of a lot of risperdal, and depakote. I tried to escape, I hit a guard. I don’t know what Max must have felt during this time, but when I came home I noticed a new scrape on his car and knew he must have suffered terribly. I was not well completely when I was released. The children were in the custody of my mother. Max’s parents were watching Aris, and Mom was watching Silas. The angels of light and darkness stayed with me in the behavioral health facility, and I believe I narrowly escaped into the light. My conscience you see, those angels, they, I would not let myself continue to be a mother if I did not make some changes. I had a vision of Silas out in the country, and soon after I was released Max and I bought some land on which to build. I was charged with Endangering a Minor, an adjudicated felony, and opted to plead guilty and take drug court instead of going on trial, which would likely end me with a 1.5 to 5 year prison sentence. I, for the first time since the desert in Utah, felt the presence of God when I chose to take drug court. This was how I was to save my life. I knew my spirituality was the answer, but I only really felt it while I was also experiencing psychosis, so for a long time, even to this day, I sometimes doubt my sanity when I see things a certain way. Still, those realms are very real. The reason I am writing all of this, I thought was to tell you this next bit, but it has been cathartic, but also fear inspiring to write all of these experiences down. Maybe if anyone reads this, it can serve a purpose. It has helped me remember the evil that lurks in my substance abuse.

#substanceabuse schitzophrenia darkness light duality angels knowing lifepath spirituality being nondoing